Lost in Translation
by T'Ashalik
Summary: Amanda's pursuit of translating Terran poetry presents itself in her marriage to Sarek
1. Chapter 1

New: Lost in Translation "The Morning After"

By: T'Ashalik

Sa/Am

Rating: M / R

Summary: waking thoughts the morning after Sarek and Amanda are bonded

Disclaimer: not mine…unfortunately…no money made from this.

2230

Sol had just begun to peek above the horizon, and Amanda thought it most inconsiderate for it to continue without her express consent. As her mind returned from heavy, sated sleep she remembered the previous evening and could not believe it had actually happened. Sarek asked her to join her life with his, to be his bond-mate, his _aduna_.

She listened to his breathing – quiet, slow, and soft on her neck. His naked body was spooned up behind hers, his right arm around her waist holding her to him. She thought about their bonding… the pleasantly bizarre feeling of his mind joining hers; her fears of what lay in store melting away like frost in the morning sun.

She had never conceived of the mental connection they now shared, and while he was soundly asleep, she could hear his consciousness next to hers. Waxing poetic, her mind began weaving a word-portrait of their first union. She became so preoccupied in the memories of their intimacy she did not realize she was broadcasting loudly to his mind.

Sarek's eyes opened rather quickly as highly erotic images of what they had done to each other the previous evening replayed in her mind. He was fascinated by the images her mind had constructed and found them highly provocative. He also realized the effect the memories were having on her physically, and decided to simply observe this new area of human behavior. As she considered each kiss, tender caress – the tasting, touching, exploring, feeling – her desire for him flared.

"_Ha'tha ti'lu, K'diwa_," he whispered into her ear, placing a gentle kiss on the lobe. "I would be most satisfied to hear the verses you are crafting in your mind."

She turned to face him, blushing brightly as her embarrassment grew at the realization her own erotic memory had awakened him. She settled into his arms and looked into his lovely hazel eyes. They studied her with a softness and affection her heart knew he would never verbalize.

"I didn't realize that I would wake you," she smiled at him. "But, since you are…"

He gently moved a strand of her hair and the touch of his fingers against her skin was startling, their bond strengthening in a newfound renewal.

"May I hear them, _T'hy'la_?" he asked softly.

She looked at him for a moment and then smiled. "Be careful what you wish for, _Adun._"

_Tishaya ein kobat wasutra-hali – tal-tor heh she-tor heh tal-tor va'ashir –_

Like some frail vessel on the sea, to plunge and rise and plunge again,

_ne'rak khom-krus ish-pra'lar yumaya tishaya pilash puvik le-suma grazhau t'dvun-lesumatra._

its bow beneath the waves that flow like a river swollen by the melting ice of grinding glaciers.

_She-tor masu-slor t'du ru'lut fi'gef lar t'du brular - heh Mashulayek yel'ar masu-igen t'du vaksurik k'akshem…_

Your mouth's sweet water rises on the banks of your lips, and the liquid sky sprinkles your body with stars…


	2. Chapter 2

New: Lost in Translation "Invictus, Spock'am"

By: T'Ashalik

Rating: K+

Summary: Young Spock asks his mother for her thoughts on entering Starfleet

Disclaimer: again…not mine… no money…

2249

The wet garden house was a sanctuary for her… quiet, filled with flora from many different worlds, lovingly tended each day. There was a certain reverence and serenity that came in the management of plants; when she needed to think, to be alone, to simply be - she found her way there. Many problems were solved in the solace of her private retreat.

She heard the door open and close quietly, but no footsteps followed. Sarek would often come to peruse the vegetation and admire her handiwork. She looked up through the ferns to see Spock considering a daylily. She quietly made her way to where he stood in silence. It was his habit to come to the arboretum to contemplate issues concerning him, or to escape the seemingly constant criticism he would receive from Sarek. She knew it was both this day.

"Mother, the lilies are thriving. How long will they continue to blossom?" he asked softly.

"Another seven or eight days, I suppose." She regarded him carefully. "Spock'am, what troubles you?"

He turned to her, and to anyone else, his face was impassive – quintessentially Vulcan. But she knew him better than anyone else, arguably even more so than Sarek. She saw the anguish in his eyes. He said nothing to her. She decided to push him a bit farther. It was not good for him to hold these feelings in, and on occasion he would come to her and share his concerns, not knowing how to deal with them.

"Your silence guides my assumption that you spoke to your father about the application to Starfleet," she said, tending to a rather unhappy rose.

She could identify with the rose bush at the moment. Sarek had been unrelentingly critical of Spock ever since he'd mentioned he was considering an option beyond the Vulcan Science Academy. It was almost more than she could stand to watch Sarek dissect Spock moment by moment simply because he saw a different path for his life.

Spock nodded silently, handing her the pruning shears she pointed to. His deep brown eyes studied her intently. He even opened his mouth to speak, and then censored himself back into silence.

Amanda put the shears down and walked past him to the door and activated the lock, ensuring their privacy.

"Ok, Spock, let's have it. What's on your mind, my son?"

He looked down at the ground for a moment, and then back to her. "Mother, we have already discussed the options I have cultivated. I require something more personal, your opinion. What would you do if you were facing this decision?" He asked her, his eyes soft and hurting.

She moved to a group of bromeliads and began tending them rather harshly. She would not tell him what to do – he must make this choice for himself – but she wished she could.

"Spock, the future in question is yours alone, and you must determine the path you will choose. You must make this decision for no one save yourself. At the end of your life you must accept responsibility for the choices you will make.

"You cannot make them for me, your father, or anyone else. You must be your own advocate, and no matter what you choose, as illogical as this is, I will always love and respect you for doing so. Do you understand me, _Safu_?" she asked.

He looked at her carefully and inclined his head to her, turned, and walked away. Once she was certain he was out of earshot, she angrily picked up a succulent and threw it hard against the stone floor. As much as the instant gratification of destruction sated her frustration, she regretted the destruction of one life in contemplation of another. She carefully cleaned up the mess she made and went inside to prepare end-meal.

They sat in absolute silence, and not for respect of customary dining etiquette, either. She looked at her husband, who clearly was not interested in eye contact with anyone. Spock ate exactly what he had to so not to offer any possible opportunity for criticism.

The nanosecond it was remotely possible to depart the table, he had done so, leaving her to her impassive husband. She finally stopped picking at her food and pushed her plate aside. Sarek looked at it and then at her.

"_Aduna_, are you feeling unwell? It is uncharacteristic for you leave food unconsumed."

She just looked at him a moment. He seemed so foreign and _alien_ to her.

"I am not feeling well, as a matter of fact. Please excuse me, _Adun._" She rose from the table and left the mess to be cleaned by him.

She passed Spock's bedroom, she could hear him working on a project. She stood in the hall a moment and looked at him through the door, admiring his physical stature and unremitting focus on his work. It was at that moment she made her decision. She continued to their study and closed the door, a sign that Sarek had long recognized as her needing to be alone.

She began to translate a poem that helped her make a decision regarding a rather handsome and commanding young Vulcan many years earlier. Once she had finished it, she hand wrote a letter to Spock, sealed it in an envelope and walked back to his bedroom. She knocked on his door and waited. His response was immediate.

"_Sarlah, A'maih_…" he answered quietly.

She entered the room and smiled at him gently.

"Spock'am, I thought about our conversation this afternoon, and I would like to amend my response to you, if you'll allow me to," she paused a moment as he stood and walked to her. "Rather than aggravate this situation with what is certain to be a distasteful emotional response, I chose to write my thoughts down for you." She handed the envelope to him.

He took it gingerly from her, the deep brown eyes looking into hers. She took a step toward him and spoke once more. "I am, however, going to invoke my Terran Mother privilege…" she trailed off and hugged him tenderly. "Whatever your decision, know that I respect and love you."

She turned and quickly walked out, barely able to hold her tears back. Once in her bedroom, she let them flow, releasing her grief for him and the only thing he would never get from his father: his respect.

Spock sat at his desk and looked at the envelope, her manuscript delicate and beautiful against the background of the stationary he had given her for her birthday several years earlier. He had only seen her use it twice before in communications to her family. She loved that stationary, and he was honored to have received her thoughts on it. He opened it and began to read.

Dearest Spock'am

I cannot imagine the physical and emotional stress you are under during this time. I know that you wish to please your father, and it conflicts with the decisions you are facing as you consider your life's path.

I ask your forgiveness for not answering you properly this afternoon. I needed time to think about the situation, and I am going to pass on to you something that helped me make a profound decision in my early life: to marry your father and leave Earth behind.

In all things, Spock, know that you have always brought me great honor, and I thank you for such a son. _Dif-tor heh smusma, Spock._

_A'Maih._

The second page was a poem he was unfamiliar with. He read it carefully.

Invictus W.E. Henley

Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be

_Wein-tor s'yuk-eshu'a nash-veh – atja u'gosh s'na-tor na – itaren ra ekon-lar nash-veh nam-tor na_

for my unconquerable soul.

_ri'abrukhau'vesht katra. _

In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced or cried aloud, and under the bludgeonings of chance,

_Ruskarau ma ek'rasah kos daya – ri pekhaya il mat-tor s'ral – heh ne'mah-tor_

my head is bloodied, but unbowed.

_t'buk patam nash-veh dash-tor hi ri keh'sei. _

Beyond this place of wrath and tears looms the horror of the shade,

_Sasarlah mesakhnash shi'reshan hehbezhun-masu hi vash t'duvek –_

yet the menace of the years finds and shall find me unafraid.

_wi tal-tor heh dungau-tal-tor nan tevunlar ri'kolthak nash-veh. _

It matters not how straight the gate, how charged with punishment the scroll,

_Ri-yauluhk ri uf zeh'temp – uf boshau k'yehtanlar to-gav –_

I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.

_nash-veh trensu buk t'nash-veh – nash-veh ang'jmih katra t'nash-veh_

Spock sat quietly as he considered his mother's opinion, and made his decision.

Sarek had been waiting for Amanda to join him in the gardens as was their habit each evening, but she did not arrive. He rose and closed the house for the evening, retiring to their bedchamber. He found her already in bed, and through their bond, he sensed her shielding her thoughts from him.

He undressed and joined her, and when he moved up close to put his arm around her, she gently and firmly pushed it away. He lay in the dark for a moment.

"_T'hy'la…_" he said quietly.

"I really don't want to talk right now, Sarek. Good night, _Adun._" She said softly.

The next morning, Amanda rose to prepare first-meal for her family. She had been rather abrupt with Sarek the previous night, and thought she might make amends this morning. She passed Spock's bedroom and found it empty.

Continuing on to the kitchen, she found it dark and quiet. Sarek usually started coffee for her and attended to business matters, but he had not been in the study when she came down stairs…

She saw him standing on the porch, contemplating the Sas-a-shar desert behind their home. Se walked outside to greet him and he turned to her, a stoic and stony face looking upon her.

"_Ha'tha Ti'lu, Aduna._ I require an interval of meditation before first-meal. Please excuse me." He departed her company and walked into the house without further communication.

She watched him and then decided to bring a flowerpot in for the table. It was then that she saw the letter from Spock on her worktable. She read it and had to force herself to finish the letter before she went looking for the unfortunate Vulcan that happened to e her husband.

_Okomekh_,

You have provided me with greater reassurance concerning my decision than you may realize. I am grateful for your honesty.

I have informed my father of my decision to enter Starfleet Academy, and regrettably, he is displeased with my decision. He has declared me _vre'kasht_.

It is not my intention to rebel against either of you for mere rebellion's sake. I simply believe Starfleet to be the most appropriate place for me to develop a career.

I will forward my contact information to you once I have arrived at the academy. Again, I thank you. _Mene sakkat ur-seveh, A'maih_.

Spock

She carefully replaced the letter in its envelope and walked back in to the house, packed her bags, and left, thinking "I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul."


	3. Chapter 3

New: Lost in Translation "A Dutiful Father"

By: T'Ashalik

Sa, Sp, Skon

Rating: K+/ PG

Summary: Sarek's perspective of his reaction to Spock's decision to join Starfleet

Disclaimer: not mine…no money made on this.

2249

Sarek strode through the academic offices at the Vulcan Science Academy. Moving through the complex of buildings and laboratories, he thought about how generations of his forefathers and foremothers walked these very halls. It was a certainty of life that brought comfort to him.

The light of Nevasa filtered in through windows, every corner alight with life and conversation, and it's warmth shining on him. Stability and consistency, two elements of a logical life… a life that was now in question for him.

He continued through hallways farther from the public view until he arrived at the door. He stood and looked at it for a instant, waiting for the precise moment he was scheduled. At 1400 hours, he entered the room and shut the door, standing in front of a large stone desk. Skon sat behind it, writing, and without looking up from his work gestured to the chair opposite him.

"Sit, my son," his deep voice rumbled softly. Sarek obliged him, waiting for his father to complete his work.

"It is agreeable to see you, Sarek'am."

"You as well. _Osamekh_, I require your wisdom." Sarek said softly.

"What concerns you, _Safu_?"

"Spock."

Skon looked at Sarek carefully, his son's face impassive and control set tightly in place. Even so, he could sense Sarek's internal struggle. "All dutiful fathers are concerned regarding their sons."

"Yes, and understandably so, Father. Spock is considering a disastrous life-course. He will jeopardize all that the Vulcan way of life represents," he said, his voice even. He was thankful it did not betray him.

"Spock _will_ or _may_, my son?" Skon asked gently.

"I do not understand."

"Is this life-path he considers so volatile that he will undermine all that we are? That is exaggeration, Sarek'am; for not even The Sundered could strip our culture of that which we believe."

"Father, he would reject admission to the Academy to join Starfleet and actively participate in the use of force and violence."

"As a scientist, Sarek? Has Spock not exceeded every expectation of performance set upon all Vulcans? His accomplishments are remarkable, and enhanced by his dualistic heritage."

"As a member of the crew," Sarek replied.

Skon evaluated Sarek, and decided to broach a topic that he wished to avoid. "Sarek, how much greater would his life-path evolve the perception of our culture by those around us than your choice to bond with Amanda?" He asked gently.

"Irrelevant, Father."

"Indeed?" Skon paused, fascinated by Sarek not realizing the connection. "Your decision to bond with a Human female forced many around you to suffer the consequences of _your_ actions, son. "

"Father…" Sarek interjected, not wishing Amanda to be brought into the conversation in such a way.

Skon quickly corrected him. "You _will_ hear me, my son," Skon answered with quick, confident authority. He sat quietly observing Sarek.

"I ask forgiveness, sir."

"Do not misunderstand me – Amanda is an honorable wife. Your mother and I cherish her. She is the wife-of-our-son. She has proven herself to be a dutiful and trustworthy mate, deserving of _all_ protection and provision from you.

"But did you ever consider how your decision would affect others? Perhaps your logic rationalized your behavior. While your choice of bond-mate was highly self-serving, it has proven to have positive consequences. Is it possible that Spock's decision, while also self-serving, has the same potential?"

Sarek sat quietly, looking at his father, having no further response to what was a most logical question.

"Father, I must meditate upon your insight. With your permission, I will take my leave of you."

"Of course. Live long and prosper, _sa-fu_," Skon replied.

As Sarek departed the office and journeyed home, he carefully considered what his father said. Sarek began to question his reasoning for defying Spock's choice of career. He was so accustomed to knowing what to do, what to say, to being in command of a confrontational situation…it was disconcerting to be in a position where the rules no longer applied. Upon returning home, he found a message waiting for him from Skon on the comm-unit.

"_Sarek'am, I have meditated upon our conversation. I will share with you words of wisdom my father shared with me before you were born. He said 'until you have a son, you will never know the satisfaction that resonates in the _katra_ of a father as he looks upon his son… you will never know the honor and duty that drives a father to accomplish more than he thought himself capable and pass that to his son…and you will never know the shattered _katras_ of men who were haunted by the _sirshos'im_ – that kept them from being the kind of men they wanted their sons to become'._

"_Sarek, _Sa-fu t'nash-veh_, there must always be struggle between the father and the son: one seeks control and the other independence, and the identity of each is often obscured, and frequently interchanged. Dutiful fathers make dutiful sons. He who is a dutiful son will become a dutiful father. Every father should remember that one day his son will follow his example as well as his advice. A father's desire for his son is to duplicate himself in order that such a remarkable pattern is not lost to the universe. _

"_You will make your own decision regarding Spock, but do not forget that he is compelled by an inner turmoil, he directly suffers the consequences of _your_ choices. I do not condemn you for them… perhaps you will remember that before you condemn _him_ for them. Live long, and prosper, Sarek'am."_

End-meal that evening had been particularly unsatisfying in that his own son would rather have imploded like a dying star than stay one iota longer than etiquette demanded. His wife was not eating, and had left him sitting there in silence. He decided that a visit to the gardens after cleaning the kitchen would help. Perhaps he would have a few moments to talk with Amanda and learn why she was apparently angry with him.

He found himself in the wet plant conservatory looking at her ferns. They were fascinating plants to him – delicate, soft, and so very green. He observed that her rose was not as healthy as it had been, and as he walked past the recycling unit he noticed a shard of pottery was jammed in the hinge, preventing the door form shutting properly. He pulled it out and discovered the destroyed plant.

He realized that it was intentionally damaged… this was not due to being dropped or accidentally knocked off the workbench. It had been decimated. Noting it was past 2100 hours and Amanda had not joined him in the gardens as usual, he went inside and closed the house for the evening.

As he entered their room, he heard her breathing in the darkness. He reached out over their bond to sense her emotional state, but she was shielding her thoughts and feelings from him – most unusual. He undressed, pulled the blanket back and climbed into bed with his wife thinking perhaps she would prefer some of her favorite 'cuddling', but when he tried to bring his body up to hers, she pushed him away. That only happened when she was very angry with him.

Sarek felt confused.

He woke at 0500 hours to meditate and prepare for the day when he encountered Spock in the family room holding a holopic of their family in his hands. Sarek watched Spock put the picture into his satchel and set the bag on the table.

"_Ha'tha ti'lu, Samekh_." Spock said quietly, not really making eye contact with his father.

"Good Morning, Spock."

"I would speak with you, Sir," Spock said formally, "perhaps the veranda?"

They walked outside. Spock did not with his mother to be awakened by the ensuing conversation. He felt a strong indication that it would not be a pleasant one. They stood in silence for a long moment, and then he took a deep breath, turned to his father and spoke.

"Sir, I have made my decision."

"Excellent. I will inform the minister of your acceptance - " Sarek was interrupted midsentence.

"No sir, you misunderstand me. I will be accepting my posting to Starfleet Academy this morning."

Sarek was stunned. Rather than allow his son to see an outward reflection of what he felt inside, he presented Spock with a most stoic and impenetrable face.

Spock had never seen his father as such. It was – unsettling to him. He stood quietly and waited for the onslaught, but it did not come. Something much worse did.

"Spock, do you realize the severity of what you are choosing?"

He nodded quietly.

"You will be ordered to commit acts of violence without question…you will be forced to choose a morally lacking lifestyle. Moral excellence only comes about as a result of habit, Spock."

"Father, I seek discipline and structure. These things encourage moral excellence - " Spock was the one interrupted now.

"We have become just by committing just acts; temperate by committing our minds to temperate contemplation; logical by thinking logically. To live a life of service – the life goal of every Vulcan is to glimpse the nature and essence of a prosperous life. You dishonor that, Spock."

Spock did not give one iota of response to his father's assault.

"Spock, the true satisfaction of life is to reach wider horizons of thought – to be at peace within ourselves so that we are at peace with those around us… this is the satisfaction of life. You would cast this aside for your own desires?" Sarek asked.

"Father," Spock responded softly, "I have seen what I can be. Now it is only logical that I do what I must to realize the truth that exists in spending my life making mistakes. I will accomplish more by doing that alone than by doing nothing at all."

"The life of scientific study is not a nullified existence. It is a life of creative exploration, and benefits intellectual growth." Sarek answered coldly.

"Yes sir, and creativity comes from pure trust. I trust my instincts." Spock answered.

"You would kill for creativity? Your efforts for good would be plundered, Spock. You will be harmed by those you will serve."

"Father, I will be neither a victim, nor perpetrator – and most certainly I will not be a bystander. It is wise to choose for myself; but it is foolish to allow another to choose for me. There is no self-respect in that."

"Spock, your pride is the crux of your error. It is the mask of your faults, and the unsolicited admission of your weakness." Sarek's gaze penetrated the young Vulcan ferociously.

"I regret that you disagree with my decision, my father. Nevertheless, it stands as made."

"Spock, if you choose to disregard all that you are, to ignore your culture, to ill consider the voices of the millions of Vulcans who have come before you – you will not exist to me." Sarek said quietly.

Spock looked at his father carefully, offered him the _ta'al_. "_Mene sakkat ur-seveh, Osamekh_."

He turned gently and walked back into the house and a few moments later he entered his mother's garden house, and then returned to the patio.

"Father, perhaps after a time, you will think better of me. I am grateful for everything you and mother have given me. Peace and long life to you." He stood quietly for a moment and then a transporter beam dissolved him into thin air.

Sarek turned to the desert beyond the walls of their garden and contemplated the Sas-a-Shar. A few moments later Amanda emerged from the quiet house. Sarek greeted her and excused himself to meditate.

As he knelt in front of the brazier and placed incense inside, he thought about the events of the previous twenty-four hours. Two hours later, he emerged from his meditation only to find that Amanda, too, had left.

***

2250

Sarek found himself again traversing the long network of hallways to visit his father. However the sounds of life and curiosity around him were harsh in his ears. The sunlight seemed to burn into him, bringing only discord and incongruity. He stood in front of the door and just as he was about to open it, Skon opened it for him.

"_Ha'tha ti'lu, Safu_." Skon said quietly.

"Good Morning, Father."

They sat at the small conference table in Skon's office and shared tea together, in a protracted silence.

"Sarek, have you heard from her?" Skon asked, finally ending the quiet.

"Yes. She still does not wish to speak with me regarding the matter of Spock. She does send her greetings to you and mother, and wishes you both longevity and peace."

"You will extend our greetings to her at your next conversation, my son. We wish her prosperity and long life. Has she responded to any of your requests for reconciliation, son?"

"She has not as of yet." Sarek looked away from his father's ever-gentle observation.

Skon watched his son and realized just how wounded he was by her absence. "_Safu_, what have you gleaned from these experiences?" Skon asked, sipping his tea.

Sarek looked away from him for a few moments and then responded.

"Father, I remember Amanda describing her experience giving birth to Spock as one of the most difficult and painful of her life. She also said it was a turning point in her life wherein she realized and accepted the pain as a tempering flame, growing stronger from passing through it.

"She did not have the benefit of pain management meditation, and bore the suffering in its fullness. I witness her acceptance of it and with each contraction, she came closer to granting Spock the opportunity to live or to die, for his life to unfold as it would, knowing that she had done everything in her power to prepare him for it.

"My _Aduna_ has greater strength than I do, Father. When it came time for me to allow Spock the opportunity to pass into the next phase of his life, to be reborn into the academic caste, I could not allow him to do so on his terms. I failed to learn from her experience." Sarek sat quietly, teacup in hand.

Skon looked at him and then responded. "Sarek'am, every father harbors innate needs that are only satisfied when he meets specific objectives, such as providing shelter, food, and protection to his mate. But he also must demonstrate how to live.

"In many ways a father must satisfy multiple roles for his mate and children. As a Provider, he ensures their basic needs are met - they educated and nurtured. As a Supporter, he enables his children to develop to a healthy standard. His determination to fulfill expectations with precision and accuracy provides a template with which his children develop those skills for themselves. They in turn will reveal the same skills to their children. It is the natural course of things," Skon finished quietly.

"And in that regard, I have failed my son and damaged my wife's trust." Sarek said quietly.

"_Rai, Sa-fu_. Failure would be inability or unwillingness to recognize these problems. Failure would be pride disallowing amending them in as much as possible for you to do so. Failure would constitute your refusal to communicate these thoughts to your wife. Your first commitment is to her."

Sarek looked at his father searchingly, knowing that he must share these thoughts with her. It would be the first step toward repairing their damaged relationship.

"I understand, Father," Sarek said, rising to depart. "Live long and prosper, _Osamekh._"

His father returned the gesture and expression. Just before Sarek was out of earshot, he spoke once more. "Sarek'am, how long has she been gone?"

"Fifty-two weeks, four days, three hours, twenty-six minutes, nineteen seconds – and counting," he replied, turning and heading straight for his home. Once in his office, Sarek sat in front of the comm-unit and composed a message to Amanda.

_My _Aduna

_I bring greetings from my mother and father. They wish you prosperity and long life, and thank you for your thoughts of them. Amanda… I have arrived at an understanding of myself that I did not have before you departed. I will share this with you now, and ask you to consider these thoughts as you decide whether or not you will reconcile with me, and return to Vulcan. _

_I found myself challenged by the very nature of Spock's rite of passage. Do you remember when you described giving birth to Spock? You called it a time of tempering, and found yourself stronger afterward. I realized you were able to allow our _safu_ to have the opportunity to live or die, but solely based upon his efforts. When the time came for me to release him to his own efforts as he sought his vocation, I was not prepared to relinquish him to his own judgment, and I failed him; and in failing him, I caused the destruction of the trust you placed in me as your husband._

_I am not prepared to reconsider my decision regarding Spock. I would however ask you to consider my request: return to me, allow me to begin to repair the harm I have caused you. When we were bonded, we made claim to be parted from one another, but never parted; we exchanged vows in your Terran ceremony to be parted by nothing but death. _

T'hy'la_, I ask you to consider returning to me, and provide me with the opportunity to restore our relationship. I find it decidedly unsatisfying that you are not here with me. _Mene sakkat ur-seveh, Aduna.

Sarek sent the message with all possible speed. He sat back in her chair at her desk and waited for the delivery confirmation. At 1,256 credits, it was the most expensive message he had ever sent. He contemplated a poem that had given him profound counsel in the past weeks, and waited for her response to him.

Time Shall Tell by Sukasah Syahdan

_Dungau var-tor wak k'Sukasah Syahdan_

Time shall tell where the real warfare begins: every soul.

_Var-tor wak dungi wilat palikau yeht ahkhan - - kanok katra._

Time shall tell who succeeds in self-pity: no one.

_Var-tor wak dungi navan vi b'elak paar - - rai veh._

Time shall tell foes apart from friends: no difference.

_Var-tor wak dungi nemut k'wuhli fasei t'hylara - -rai natyan._

Time shall tell who possesses ultimate truth: no one.

_Van-tor wak dungi ma vi da-nek yeht'es - - rai veh._


	4. Chapter 4

NEW: Lost in Translation: "One Does Not Thank Logic"

By: T'Ashalik

Sa/Am

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Not mine...no money...sad day.

Summary: Amanda's habitual translation hobby presents itself to Sarek throughout their marriage…

2250

Sarek sat in the lounge of the _T'Plana Hath_, waiting the ship's docking maneuvers in orbit around Earth. It had been ten days since he had received Amanda's communication – and in the privacy of their home, he had welcomed it. Although the duration of standard docking procedures had not really changed during his career, this particular day, the procedures seemed to be taking an inordinate amount of time.

While he knew that she was still displeased with him for his severing ties with their son, Amanda had made it clear to him that she wished there to be no further discord in their family. It meant more to her to be with him alone, than without either of them. He looked at the message she sent to him, and considered it carefully as final preparations were made to seal airlocks and gain entry clearances.

My Dearest Sarek,

It is of endings that I would speak with you. I will be very clear with you, Sarek, that I still have not been able to forgive the way you treated our son… _our only child_… _vre'kasht_… but that is a conversation for a later time.

I have made my decision regarding our relationship, and I will return to you, _Adun._ While I do not agree with your choices, it is more important to me that you and I hold fast to the commitment we made to one another.

You see, wounds like these have a way of mending themselves over time, and perhaps one day you and Spock will be able to mend one another. That would mean a great deal to me; in fact, it would mean more to me than you may ever realize.

My teaching contract ends in ten days, and they want to know if I will be renewing with them or not. I await your response.

Your Wife,

Amanda

Sarek sighed quietly and considered the satisfaction he felt at the end of a year's separation from her. It had been decidedly unpleasant, and having her home safe, in his arms, rebuilding the trust _he_ shattered was his top priority.

However, he was not prepared to consider redacting his decision regarding Spock, not at all. If things between them were to change, Spock would have to make extraordinary decisions regarding his future, and Sarek did not estimate the probability of that to be high.

His response to her had been immediate, and he was grateful for his aides clearing his schedule for the journey to Earth without so much as a question or even a raised eyebrow. She sent a second communication to him two days ago with her finalized plans for his arrival and their mutual return to Vulcan.

Along with that letter was a translation she had completed for him. He gently turned it over to obscure its contents from the first officer who approached him.

"_S'hai'le_, we are under control of the Docking agents and will be clear to disembark in five minutes," the young woman said quietly.

"Acknowledged, _Nerien_. Has the item I requested been located and brought aboard?"

"It is to be beamed aboard in two minutes, Sir," she responded.

Sarek inclined his head to the young officer, who turned and briskly strode out of the lounge. Sarek returned to the poem, by the Terran poet Federico Lorca:

With a lily in your hand, I leave, my night-love.

_K't'dular svai-teluk svi'd'ru – trashu nash-veh – mu-yor ashaya._

Little widow of my single star, I find you, taming the dark butterflies I follow along my way.

_Naglanshau nash-veh tu-pi'kir'an t'nash-veh goh khio'ri - fnau-tor t'mugel mathralar zahaltor t'nash-veh yut._

After a thousand years, you will see me, my night-love. Following the blue foot-path,

_Po'shahtau leh-teh tevunlar – dungi gla-tor du nash-veh – mu-yor ashaya. Zahalik plankur lates-yut –_

taming the dark stars, I will go until the universe can fit inside my heart.

_fnau-tor t'mu'gel khio'rolar – hal-tor nash-veh yut abi'stukhtra dungi-nunau svi'khaf-spol nash-veh._

Sarek folded her peace offering and placed it in the hidden pocket of his robes. He walked quietly out of the lounge to the transporter room, and was greeted by a yeoman, with the item he'd requested in his hands. He stood by the control station and waited as the transporter chief acknowledged the order to activate the transporter.

***

Amanda stood on the transporter pad, feeling uncharacteristically nervous. The year apart had been hard for him, she was certain – but she was not ready for the toll it would take on her to be away from him in anger. She still did not understand how he could declare their son unworthy and disown him as he had. Twenty years of marriage had revealed a lot to her about him… more importantly, it showed her there was so much more to learn.

She had been more than pleased to receive a subspace message in reply to her peace offering, and was delighted to know that he was personally coming to bring her home. As the odd twinge of her molecules being scrambled moved through her body, she closed her eyes and waited. When she opened them, Sarek waiting for her with flowers in his arms. She stepped off the pad and approached him. He handed them to her, and she smiled softly, inhaling their delightful scent.

"Sarek, they are lovely, I thank you."

"You are most welcome, Amanda, however, one does not thank logic."

"Sarek, how can flowers be logical?" she asked, with a skeptical look in her eyes.

"Are you not familiar with the variety?" he asked her.

She looked at the identification tag, and realized just how sound his logic was. The only possible choice was Stargazer Lilies. Embracing two fingers, she looked into his eyes.

//One may not thank logic, Sarek, but I will thank the one thinking logically.//


	5. Chapter 5

NEW: Lost in Translation: "Of Seasons Passing"

By: T'Ashalik

Sa/Am

Rating: G

Disclaimer: Not mine...No money...Sad Day.

Summary: Amanda's habitual translation hobby presents itself to Sarek throughout their marriage…

2285

Sarek's Personal Log

Begin recording

I find today to be the least preferable of those I have witnessed. Our lives are always uncertain, and it is not logical to dwell upon such things – however as I am faced with an irrefutable truth now, I find myself questioning much. I must meditate.

-Pause-

-Resume-

My wife is inconsolable. My line is gone. My son is…my son is dead. No father should ever have to bury his child.

James Kirk notified us personally - a loyal friend to Spock in all things. He assures us that all was done that could have been, and Spock's personal effects are being returned to us with all speed. I can only hope that one of his shipmate's bears his _katra_, for it is the only item that has value to me now.

Hope…illogical. I do not trust to hope for anything right now.

-Pause-

-Resume-

My aides are preparing _The Surak_ for immediate departure to Earth. It is inconceivable to me that his _katra_ is lost; it's value too great. I am traveling to speak with Jim Kirk, to seek any possible alternative the humans may not be aware of.

I am concerned for Amanda…she is suffering greatly. I tried to provide her solace, to no avail. I will do what I must to ensure the security or verify the loss of Spock's katra – not for myself, but for her alone. I must depart immediately. T'Rileya will be staying at our estate with Amanda. I do not wish her to be alone during this time.

I feel no certainty in my logic…only in that I must do what I can to reclaim my son.

End recording

Amanda's Personal Log

Begin recording

Sarek has asked me to log my feelings while he is gone… (sighs)… that might not be such a good idea right now, at least not with T'Rileya in the house. I appreciate his looking out for me, but as much as I am glad she is here, I would very much like to be alone for a while.

Never in my wildest nightmares did I imagine Spock would be dead. Perhaps I am being selfish to want him back…no…that does not make sense. What is wrong with wanting my son back? Dammit!

I knew when he went into Starfleet this was always a possibility, but after all these years, I thought perhaps he might just be one of the luckier ones. I thought wrong.

I keep thinking of Spock when he was a baby…breastfeeding him, his tiny fingers clinging tightly around mine…those _huge_ eyelashes…being called "m'aih"…sitting underneath the veranda with him sound asleep in my arms…Sarek looking proud when he thought I did not see. First steps… first words… intense curiosity… abundant creativity… profound sensitivity… Vulcans have no emotions? Yeah, and elephants can fly.

Sarek won't tell me why he has gone specifically, only eluded that there are always alternatives.

I told him it was illogical. His response?

"Indeed."

Oh, my son…

From Sonnet XLIII (Edna St. Vincent Millay)

Thus in Winter stands the lonely tree,

_I'lam-tor sa'awek svi'Karil in-du-ka –_

Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,

_Il fainu ki'sasaudau if lara veh be'veh –_

yet knows its boughs more silent than before.

_Wi fai-tukh meskaraya I'lap-kar whet ralash-fam._

I cannot say what love has come and gone,

_Ri tar-tor ra ashaya nash-veh ki'sarlah eh trashu –_

I only know that summer sang in me a little while,

_Fai-tor goh nash-veh ish-heh-Belaar uralaun svi'udish nash-veh pen wak –_

and in me sings no more.

_Uralaun svi'nash-veh rai whet._

End recording


	6. Chapter 6

NEW: Lost in Translation: "Sixty Years? Already?"

By: T'Ashalik

Sa/Am

Rating: G

Summary: Sarek offers a translation of his own on a very special day.

Disclaimer: Not mine…no money…sad day.

2288 – Ariolo Homeworld – Late evening

Sarek sat in the office of the guest suite, completing a counter-offer for a trade negotiation with the Ariolan ambassador for improved pricing on the export of topaline ore. Upon completing the document and transmitting it to his colleague, Sarek sat back and mentally cleared the list of items he must attend to this day.

His work efforts had been particularly expedient, as his highest priority was to complete a translation for Amanda on this most important day: their 60th anniversary. By his calculations, he could send it via subspace and she would receive it as she rose for her coffee at first light. She would call it romantic, but he simply believed it to be an appropriate expression of his thoughts. He reviewed it once more before composing a short message and sending it to her.

2288 – Vulcan, D'H'riset – Early morning

Amanda lay sprawled out in their bed, defying the alarm clock and wallowing in the sheets. As much as she loved sleeping with Sarek, sometimes it was nice to take up more 'real estate' than usual.

Sleeping with Sarek had some pretty nice perks: he was incredibly warm; he rose at the same time each day and was much more pleasant than her clock; and, well, they enjoyed each other's close proximity quite frequently. She giggled at the last thought and finally sat up, stretching slowly. She stood in front of the window and looked out upon the Llangon Mountains in the far distance.

Amanda walked quietly through the house and into the kitchen, brewing her coffee and preparing breakfast. She was sitting at the table and had just popped a piece of globe fruit in her mouth when the comm-unit chimed an incoming message. She accepted the message and read it.

My Cherished _T'hy'la_,

Today is a significant day in our marriage, and it is only logical to acknowledge its importance... Sixty years is not the longest recorded marriage, but the quality of our interactions with one another have in my opinion, been most satisfying. I thank you for them. I regret I am unable to share today with you personally. Perhaps we may postpone our celebration until I return?

Sarek

My Thoughts, (from Coda) by Octavio Paz

_Nahp T'nash-veh_

Perhaps to love is to learn to walk through this universe.

_Ashau oren-tor im-roi-tor fra'nash-stukhtra sos'eh._

To learn to be silent like the Eridani Teak of lore, to learn to see.

_Oren-tor nam-tor ralash-fan spo'sha'for T'Kethtra – oren-tor gla-tor._

Your glance scattered seeds, and planted a tree.

_T'du glazhau sak-tor nei – heh kast-kau lap._

I talk because you shook its leaves.

_Stariben nash-veh fayei du hutau tish-veh mor-lar._

She sat staring at the screen, dumbfounded by her most logical husband. She did not know how he found the ways, but he could logically justify his way out of a paper bag if he tried hard enough. She read the letter and poem again drying tears from her eyes, and sent the most appropriate response she could find.

2288 – Ariolo Homeworld – Later evening

Sarek completed his meditation and preparations to retire. He sat at the table on the small balcony to his bedroom and nursed a cup of hot tea. As he rose to retire for the evening, he heard the comm-unit chime. He accepted the message, pleased to see it from his wife.

Sarek _T'Ashayam_

I cannot thank you enough for the beauty of this poem, as it is a most logical and rational expression of your mind and I am grateful for it, as I am for you. Sixty years? Has it really been that long? I _know_ it has, but it seems that time passed much faster than I was prepared for it to. I have finally completed my translation of the poem by T'Valdena. I only hope I was able to honor her words. I look forward to your return, _Adun._

Amanda

Ya'akash Nash-veh Skasu Yuzhat Ashaya T'Nash-veh k'T'Valdena

"Deal Gently With My Love"

_Sporun T'Valdena t'koveh nahp t'ashaya_:

The Maiden exclaimed with her voice of Love:

_Uf vaksuric t'dular kashek – weh-lo'uk ha'ge-Nevasa – mak nikhlar t'nash-veh!_

How majestic is your countenance – more beautiful than the light of Nevasa - delight of my eyes!

_U'vlitaya nar-tor katra t'nash-veh, t'du-polau fundauik k'tun_.

In ransom for my soul, you received me well and treated me hospitably.

_T'du-ashaya t'nash-veh taluk, namautau ek'kosular._

Your love for me is wonderful, surpassing all other women.

_Di'kizh-tor ashaya t'dular, nash-veh gluvan fonn'es, k'diwa t'nash-veh t'ek'sasular!_

In return for your love, I have shown my faithfulness, My Beloved, of all other men!


End file.
